


Never knew better 'til I knew you

by fangirlandiknowit



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Fantasy AU, Kind of a university au?, M/M, Rated T To Be Safe, There's pining and mistakenly thinking the other is taken, roommates au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-07
Updated: 2018-09-07
Packaged: 2019-07-07 01:01:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15897696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangirlandiknowit/pseuds/fangirlandiknowit
Summary: Viktor can't help how he makes flowers grow, in his hair and on his body and anywhere he walks. They sprout from him much to the inconvenience of others - that is, others except Yuuri. With every flower that Yuuri plucks from him, Viktor falls a little harder, a little deeper in love. It doesn't help that they live together, or that Makkachin loves Yuuri, too.Despite the way his chest burns with unrequited love, Viktor decides not to tell him - until he can't stay silent anymore.





	Never knew better 'til I knew you

**Author's Note:**

> I meant to post this like two weeks ago but I just started my new job and then a lot of things ended up taking my attention... Starting a new, full time job is so exhausting lol. But fun! Bye bye university~
> 
> This is set in some kind of fantasy world, and if you read something that sounds like it should be made possible by technology, just assume it's magic instead. There wasn't much room for world-building in here.
> 
> Actually, it's just a cute little roommate thingy because I was craving it :3 Yuuri is some unspecified nocturnal type of human who negates magic rather than use it, and Viktor is pretty non-magical aside from all the flowers growing from him. Phichit, however, is an Elven prince because why wouldn't he be. Oh, and of course Makkachin is magically blessed with a very long life. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Viktor used to hang up quotes in the house when he lived alone. There were little magnets saying things like _all dogs are good dogs_ or _wine improves with age, I improve with wine_. Framed posters, with stuff like _catch the day before it catches you!_ in loopy cursive. Little hand-written notes tacked onto the walls, with pretty words from fairy poets they had to read in class.

When Yuuri moved in, one by one they disappeared from view.

Viktor didn’t need them, anymore. Not when he could quote _Yuuri_ , instead.

It started as a joke, really. Before they knew each other properly, but after the initial tiptoeing of two strangers rearranging themselves around each other. Yuuri had sat, bleary-eyed and sleep-deprived, blinking at Viktor’s fridge. Viktor can remember how soft he looked, how surprised Viktor was that he was still _there_ , weeks later, when by all means he should have up and left long ago. Even Chris couldn’t stand living with Viktor longer than a few days, and they’d known each other since they were children.

“You know,” Yuuri had said, throat thick with lack of sleep. “What it should say on your fridge. Instead of all that other stuff.”

“No?”

Viktor had waited with baited breath, had tracked the minute changes in Yuuri’s expression like a dried-up plant searches the sky for rain.

“No good fridge is empty.”

He’d waited some more, just to see if there was something to be added. All Yuuri did was narrow his eyes, glaring at the fridge like it had personally offended him.

“That’s all it needs to say,” he eventually did add, huffing. “Like yesterday, when I woke up. _Empty_.”

And Viktor had laughed, had taken all the notes from the fridge and thrown them in the trash before swiping a new one and writing, in big letters, precisely what Yuuri had told him.

“Good?” he’d asked, and Yuuri, still fueled by his hatred for midday sunlight, still too tired to think about his words, had jutted out his bottom lip in consideration.

“Not really. But better.”

 

 

 

Viktor should have seen the signs, back then. Yuuri had apologized profusely later, after waking up properly once evening fell and he’d managed a nap, but all Viktor had done was smile and insist that it was a good reminder for grocery shopping.

And so, one by one, posters and notes with words from other people were replaced by other things, things said at home and in class and with friends. Most said by Yuuri, some said by Viktor and put there by Yuuri in halfhearted revenge.

Except, no matter how many notes put up, no matter how many words said out loud, there were three little ones left unwritten, unspoken, still.

 _Please be mine_.

 

✿✿✿

 

“We have eggs,” Yuuri mutters in the kitchen, and Viktor peeks at him from his comfortable position on the couch. “Or maybe we need some more? Are we making anything with eggs this week?”

The last part is directed at Viktor, who shakes his head. The motion disturbs the smattering of sprouts clinging to his hair, has a few of them growing past his forehead and eyes instead. He blows at them, reluctant to part his hands with the book he's holding.

"I don't think we are, at least?"

There's only a counter separating the living room and kitchen, littered with potted plants and glassware figurines, the latter gifts from little Yuri who creates more than he knows what to do with. It's sad because it hides most of Yuuri from view, only the top of his head and his eyes visible over the various flowers.

"I might buy some just in case, then," Yuuri concludes, closing the fridge door and scribbling something down. "You alright, by the way?"

By now, Viktor is batting at the twisting vines that seem overly fond of his face.

"Well, if you're not in a hurry..."

Yuuri smiles, all sweet, and Viktor feels his heart squeeze too tight. He allows the flowers to bloom as they like, thinking they might hide some of his love-struck expression. Surely Yuuri knows by now, but Viktor doesn't want him to think he has to respond in any way.

"Dahlias today? I like the blue color," Yuuri says as he stands next to Viktor, letting him straighten up a bit before sifting his fingers through Viktor's short hair.

Viktor only sighs, closes his eyes as Yuuri one by one pulls the flowers, stem and all, off Viktor's head. He's not supposed to grow more as Yuuri works on them, but he is so, so weak to Yuuri touching him.

"Maybe if you wore a hat they wouldn’t grow as easily," Yuuri muses out loud, struggling with a stubborn little sprout that has twirled itself into a knot somehow. "You could actually finish your book."

He doesn't have the heart to tell Yuuri that the true reason Viktor has become a slow reader is, well, Yuuri himself. He's just so distracting! Even when he isn't there, Viktor can't help but think of him, thoughts wandering until they inevitably focus on his roommate.

"I'm used to it," he says instead, tilts his head back to give Yuuri an innocent smile.

"Speaking of," Yuuri starts, tone a little more teasing now. "Is there a reason the bathroom was a jungle last night?"

"Ah." Viktor folds a corner of the page he's on, snapping the book shut. "I did have this vague memory that I threw off some plants in the sink before going to bed..."

Yuuri, seemingly finished with his task, rolls the bundle of plants between his hands, dusty soil sifting to the floor in their stead.

"They seemed to like it there," he says, brushing off his hands. "I'll go get the broom."

"I can do it!"

Viktor's protest goes ignored, and he smiles, chest filling with warmth. The sunflower on their coffee table grows ten centimeters.

On his way Yuuri glances at the chalkboard on the wall that leads over to the hallway, pausing to read something.

“Looks like Phichit’s done.”

“You’re going over to his place?”

When Yuuri nods, Viktor forces down a pout.

“I thought you were just going shopping.”

Yuuri disappears out of sight for a moment, noises telling Viktor he’s rummaging through the cleaning supplies closet. He sends a nasty look at the chalkboard, even though it’s very convenient to have an enchanted one that can be used to send messages. The thing is, Phichit enchanted it, because Phichit is a mage adept in runes. And as if that wasn’t extraordinary in itself, he’s also an _elven prince_ , unlike Viktor who just drops flowers in inconvenient places.

All he’s got on Phichit is his height, and even that probably isn’t an advantage, not when Phichit fits perfectly in Yuuri’s arms.

“We’re just doing some studying,” Yuuri says as he returns with the broom, eyes averted as he takes care of the small pile of dirt on the floor. “I’m having some trouble with translations…”

“I could have helped you with that.”

Viktor is good at languages. He even got an award once.

“I didn’t want to bother you,” Yuuri mumbles, pink dusting his nose and cheeks.

Heart sinking, Viktor offers a thin smile. Yuuri blushing over the reason he wants to go to Phichit for help… Well, Viktor is 97% sure they’re dating but lately he’s been leaning towards a solid 98.

“You wouldn’t. I did promise to take Makkachin to the park though…”

There’s a bark from the dog bed in the corner, Makkachin lifting her head at the sound of her name. The park and Phichit’s place aren’t even in the same direction.

All too soon Yuuri has left, leaving Viktor to fend off an overly excited dog as he tries to find proper pants and socks. Some days he really feels stuck in limbo, pining after someone already in a relationship. He can’t even dislike Phichit, because the man is like a walking ray of sunshine. Which makes it a little ironic that he’d managed to snatch Yuuri, who thrives in darkness and the night. He’s not entirely sure when they went from best friends to lovers, feeling as if it snuck up on him. There were the glances, the nudges, the secrets Viktor wasn’t privy to. All the late night runs to Phichit’s place, all the hurried conversations too low for Viktor to catch. Sometimes Viktor wishes Yuuri would just outright talk about Phichit, his _boyfriend_ , maybe ask Viktor for advice or a double date. _Anything_.

“Looks like it’s just you and me today,” he says to Makkachin, unlocking the front door.

The forget-me-nots growing in a small pot hanging on the door seem to wilt at his tone, and Viktor sends them a betrayed look. He needs to be better at this, at acting normal. Yuuri wouldn’t want a roommate who can’t be satisfied with friendship, and Viktor absolutely does not want to go back to living alone.

Makkachin rushes ahead as soon as the door opens, sniffing along the winding path leading up to their little house. It’s cloudy, with a slight chill to the wind, and Viktor sorely regrets going outside. Yuuri must have cleared the stone path on his way out, because the cracks are void of weeds and the rose bushes by the wooden gate haven’t grown over the handle.

Viktor can’t help but smile a little. In the beginning, Yuuri had been reluctant to share his magic, certain Viktor would resent him for destroying all the flowers and plants he produced. He’d been doing it quietly instead, clearing paths and opening up windows covered by ivy and the like. Where others had complained, Yuuri silently worked his way around Viktor’s lack of control.

Yuuri is the only roommate Viktor ever managed to keep, and he’s afraid that Yuuri doesn’t want to stay forever.

He _can’t_ stay forever, but Viktor wants, selfishly and desperately; wants his gentle hands crushing flowers to dust, giving Viktor space to grow more and more and more-

“It’s okay, Makkachin,” he says, takes a deep breath as the poodle scratches at the gate, green color slightly faded from the habit. “It’s fine.”

 

_It’s not._

 

✿✿✿

 

“This doesn’t make any sense.”

Phichit throws his hands in the air at that, sinking lower in his seat as Yuuri frowns down at the papers and books in front of him.

“That’s why I told you to ask Viktor for help.”

“No really,” Yuuri says, stabbing at the open page he’s supposed to translate. “Why would you make me go from fae runes to elven runes and _then_ human runes? Why not just go straight from fae to human?”

“Because!” Phichit pouts, crossing his arms. “It’s much easier this way.”

“For _you_.”

“Human runes don’t make sense anyway.”

Yuuri rolls his eyes, dropping his pen on the table. He’s making zero progress right now. He doesn’t even _need_ to learn to separate different magical runes, except he was dumb and signed up for a class just so he could have something in common with Viktor.

“Maybe I should just give up,” he sighs, leaning his head in one hand. “Viktor won’t ask me out just because I try to learn runes.”

“Aha! And that’s why _you_ should ask _him_ out.”

Even though Yuuri gives him a _look_ , Phichit is all fired up now for his (almost) daily speech arguing for Yuuri to simply end his own misery by asking Viktor on a date.

It just doesn’t work like that.

“I _can’t_.”

“You don’t even know if he’s dating Chris.”

“He is _definitely_ dating Chris,” Yuuri wails, burying his face in the crook of his arm. “Or at least sleeping with him.”

“You don’t know that he’s doing that.”

“It’s obvious. All evidence points to the fact, Phichit.”

“Okay, but,” Phichit starts, lips tilting upwards in a smug grin. “What about the fact that last night, I happened to be at the same party as Chris.”

Yuuri narrows his eyes, unsure of where this is going.

“Let’s just say he didn’t look like a guy in a serious relationship.”

Phichit winks, and Yuuri is so thankful for the fact that Phichit stopped dragging him to parties after a few weeks of Yuuri suffering among strangers. He seemed to think it was terrible that Yuuri’s only friend at university was Phichit, but eventually realized that parties were not the way to go about changing that.

 “So they’re sleeping together,” he concludes, words muffled against his arm. “Doesn’t change anything.”

“Actually, I think it changes a lot. You live with him! Seducing him should be _easy_. At least easier than translating runes.”

“Oh, sure. Who _wouldn’t_ want to date a guy that negates magic.”

It’s Phichit’s turn to roll his eyes, pushing Yuuri’s books away from himself with a grimace.

“Honestly? People who don’t like guys. Other than that you’re a catch for anyone, my friend.”

“ _Specifically_ creation magic, like Viktor’s,” Yuuri continues, ignoring Phichit’s reply. “I just ruin everything.”

“Negating isn’t a synonym for ruining,” Phichit sighs, because he’s been repeating this for years already. “And you know that. Plus, Viktor seems like he doesn’t mind when you get rid of flowers for him.”

“But they’re all so pretty…”

 _Viktor_ is pretty, filled with the pleasant buzz of creation magic, acting like a sun. Plants are drawn to the light he emanates, and somehow Yuuri is drawn to his light, too.

Despite the fact that both he and his magic have an affinity for the _lack_ of light, Yuuri has found that he loves how bright and colorful their tiny house is. Viktor is warmth and comfort, and Yuuri wants to sneak into his room at night and soak it all up.

“Well,” Phichit says, an excited gleam in his eyes. “If we’re not going to study, help me with some transformation runes?”

 

 

 

A few hours later, Yuuri returns home with feet dragging in exhaustion. Phichit’s magic is very powerful, which makes negating it just so he can try transforming the same rock into a million different things less fun than it sounds.

He’s got a slight stiffness in his neck, fingertips stinging with residual magic. Sure, Phichit is his best friend in the whole world, but Yuuri will fall asleep way before sunrise with how tired he is.

It’s only as he opens the front door and smells food that he remembers – he forgot the groceries.

There’s no time to berate himself, however, because a yelp and a hissed curse has him groaning before kicking off his shoes and rushing inside, dropping his bag along the way. Viktor is at the stove, frantically stirring the contents of a boiling pot and waving one hand around like he’s gotten burnt. On the counter is a mess of half-chopped cabbage, what looks like spilled tomato sauce, and the remains of various ingredients in the form of opened jars and packages.

Viktor uses his burnt fingers to press down on a page in his cookbook, muttering to himself under his breath. He’s wearing an apron, a garishly green thing that Yuuri knows he won at some charity lottery, bare feet stepping on the moonflower vines covering the floor as well as creeping up the walls. The white flowers seem to tremble slightly as Viktor sighs, wiping at his forehead.

“Viktor?”

Yuuri winces as Viktor startles badly at the sound of his name, twirling around to stare wide-eyed at him. The sun has almost set but Viktor still glows under the lamplight, Yuuri’s fingers itching to cup his cheeks and press sweet kisses to his soft lips.

“Oh, you’re back,” he says, like he’s confused about it. “I didn’t see a message so I thought you might stay the night.”

“Phichit sleeps at night, so there wouldn’t be much point,” Yuuri replies, stepping over to the counter and missing the way Viktor’s eyes darken for a moment. “I forgot the groceries…”

“Got distracted, hmm?” Viktor teases, but he avoids Yuuri’s eyes to stir whatever’s in the pot.

“No, just tired I guess. What are you making?”

Viktor waves a hand at the sloppily chopped cabbage, checking the pot one last time before covering it with a lid.

“Just cabbage soup, there’s enough if you want some?”

Yuuri eyes the mess on the counter, and how some of the soup has splattered over the stove as well. It’s not often that Viktor cooks, though it’s not like he’s particularly bad at it or anything. He just claims that whatever Yuuri makes always tastes better, which Yuuri thinks might be code for him having realized that Yuuri’s cooking doesn’t make a mess.

“I don’t know…” he says, poking at the cabbage, pretending to feel concerned over it. “It kind of looks like you killed the poor thing.”

“ _Yuu_ -ri! How can you say such a thing?” Viktor throws both hands to his chest, clutching at his heart. “I treat everything that grew from the earth with the utmost respect!”

A pointed look to the trampled moonflowers under Viktor’s feet, and Yuuri thinks he’s made his point clear.

“Fine,” Viktor huffs, but the corners of his mouth twitch against a smile. “But to be fair, I didn’t _tell_ them to grow right under my feet.”

“Of course you didn’t.”

Viktor picks up a stray piece of cabbage and flicks it at his face. It hits Yuuri right on the nose, and as Viktor fakes innocence Yuuri picks up a piece of his own to throw. There’s a faint smack as it connects with Viktor’s forehead, and something a little dangerous gleams in Viktor’s eyes. It sends a thrill through him, the wild thought that maybe, _maybe_ today is the day his fantasies come true and Viktor pushes him against the counter and-

A handful of cabbage splatters onto Yuuri’s face, falling to the floor and disappearing among the flowers. Well then.

It’s not until the cabbage is spread all over the floor and Yuuri is shrieking with laughter as Viktor tickles him mercilessly that it strikes him with painful clarity, the truth slicing through the easy happiness he feels with Viktor holding him close, Yuuri fitting in his arms like he belongs.

He’s never going to get more than this, but even if he doesn’t…

Viktor will always be someone he loves.

 

✿✿✿

 

“Ah, Viktor, there you are!”

Viktor turns at the sound of Chris’ voice, his messenger bag heavy with books and hitting his hip painfully. Childhood friends or not, Viktor has had a rough day and is not particularly in the mood for socializing.

“Sorry, Chris, I’m just going home today.”

“What? Absolutely not!” Chris loops their arms together, pulling him to the side of the corridor. “You and I are going on a double date, you see!”

“No thanks.”

All he wants is his bed and Makkachin, and maybe Yuuri will take pity on him and brew some of his special tea.

“You don’t even know who it’s with yet.”

“I think you’ll have better luck without me there, anyway. I’m dead on my feet.”

As if to prove his words, a few leaves fall from his fringe, shriveling up and dying on the way down.

“Well, that won’t do. We’d better go by my place first and make sure you look presentable. Now, come along!”

Despite his loud objections, Chris drags him all the way to his cozy little apartment on the outskirts of the university grounds. A large forest lies just behind it, perfect for Chris to practice his spells inside. They tend to be  _exhilarating_ to watch, to use a nice word for it.

“Now, be good and take a shower,” Chris orders, all but shoving him into the bathroom. “I’ll find you something to wear.”

They’re mostly the same size, but Chris has a slightly more eccentric style compared to him. If anything, his supposed date will at least find him eye-catching. Though, he still doesn’t know who it is. Not that it matters. If this is Chris’ weird way of trying to cheer him up when he’s basically 100% sure that Yuuri will never see him the same way, he’s certainly not appreciating it. The shower is nice, but Viktor makes sure to drop a few inconvenient dandelions around the sink. Chris can have fun battling them later, he thinks. Their happy meaning in the language of flowers clashes with his irritation, but at least they’re difficult to get rid of.

When he sees what Chris picked for him to wear, he decides that he’s too tired to care. Maybe if he goes on a date, Yuuri will realize he’s boyfriend material. In his wildest dreams Yuuri comes running home one day, telling Viktor he broke up with Phichit because they were only dating out of friendship, and Viktor is his one true love. In his wildest dreams, he still has a hard time imagining wearing an outfit that seems more befitting of a strip club to a regular date.

“You really want me to dress like a stripper,” he deadpans, eyeing the black mesh combo. “I thought you said double date, not bondage session.”

“Hmm.”  Chris looks at the outfit as well, chin in hand. “I suppose Yuuri prefers a cute style on you.”

Viktor’s heart stills. He has to take several breaths as Chris throws the clothes aside, going on a rampage through what’s left in his closet.

“Did you say Yuuri?”

“Oh, definitely.”

When Chris doesn’t continue, Viktor walks up to him, murder in his eyes.

“You’re setting me up on a date with Yuuri? He has a boyfriend!”

“I sure hope he doesn’t, because Phichit asked me on a date last night and I’m not really into polyamory at the moment.”

There’s a lot of internal screaming before Viktor finds his voice again.

“Your date is _Phichit?!”_

Chris seems to have found what he was looking for, because he straightens up with a smug smile on his face. It’s possible that Viktor is shedding flowers at an alarming rate, heart beating rabbit-like against his ribs. He can’t do this. If Chris is joking, Viktor will _cry_ and never speak to him again.

“I believe I have told you many times,” Chris starts, raising an eyebrow. “There’s no way Yuuri and Phichit are dating. That boy is head over heels for you.”

“No he isn’t.”

It’s an automatic response, as if Viktor has conditioned himself to think it’s true. Which he has, but that’s beside the point. The point is that Viktor is currently going through a _crisis_ and does Yuuri even know that this is a date?

“Let me phrase it like this, mon ami,” Chris says, leaning closer to pluck a few stressed flowers from Viktor’s shoulder. “Yuuri would love nothing more than to _deflower_ you, as they call it. I know it, Phichit knows it, and you would know as well if either of you actually had the courage to confess.”

“Chris. Chris, _please_. Don’t make me do this.”

The plea goes ignored as Chris shoves a bundle of clothes at him, smiling encouragingly. Viktor stares down at the fabric, gaze unfocused as he tries not to panic. He’s not prepared to be rejected. His day was already shitty enough – oversleeping, getting bumped into and dropping the contents of his backpack all over the floor in the lecture hall, not having time to eat lunch – and now Chris wants him to face his crush who is _definitely_ not interested and possibly ruin their friendship completely.

“It’s for your own good,” Chris tells him when he doesn’t move, pushing him lightly. “And you can thank me later. Also pick up these flowers, my room is messy enough without them.”

There’s just no way Viktor is going to survive this.

 

 

 

Half an hour later, Viktor’s knees tremble as Chris drags him inside the café. It’s one that he knows Yuuri frequents, because sometimes he brings something for Viktor as well after passing by. He tugs at the pink denim jacket Chris forced him to wear, wondering if the black slim-fit jeans he trapped his poor legs in will eventually strangle his blood flow and kill him. He feels ridiculous. Usually, Viktor wears sweatpants or loose chinos, depending on whether he’s at class or at home. When flowers sometimes grow on you in unexpected places, it’s not a lot of fun to wear anything too tight.

“Stop fretting, your ass looks great,” Chris says, clapping his back as they enter.

“I don’t care how my ass looks,” Viktor hisses back, which is a lie. “Also _why_ am I wearing pink denim again?”

“Shush, you look cute in pink. Ah, there they are!”

Sure enough, Yuuri and Phichit are already seated at a corner table, Phichit waving happily as he spots them. Viktor drags his feet as they make their way over, fingers messing with his fringe as he attempts deep breaths. He’s not used to being this nervous, but ever since Yuuri appeared in his life it’s been a constant rollercoaster of nerves.

“You guys are late,” Phichit complains, and Yuuri whips his head around to stare at them.

“V-Viktor,” he stammers, and _oh god_ , did Yuuri not know that he was coming?

“Well, you know how it is,” Chris mock sighs, sliding into the seat next to Phichit. “Looking this good takes time.”

Viktor is frozen, staring at Yuuri’s shocked face. His head spins with the thought that _Yuuri didn’t know I was coming, Yuuri doesn’t want me here_ , and his lungs ache with the need to run. He’s been so happy with Yuuri as his roommate – he doesn’t want to lose him, _anything_ but that.

“I didn’t know you were coming,” Yuuri says, biting his lip. “Um, do you want to… sit?”

From the corner of his eye, Viktor can see Phichit rolling his eyes, giving Chris a look.

“Just sit so we can order,” Phichit says imperiously with a little wave, and did Viktor mention that Phichit is an Elven prince who can actually get away with such things? “I’m starving.”

Yuuri scoots over, cheeks reddening as Viktor gingerly sits. He’s still not sure if this is reality or if he simply fell asleep in class and now dreams, because Yuuri looks too good to be true.

“Um, did you get a new jacket?” Yuuri asks, glancing at the cherry blossom pink fabric over his white t-shirt before grabbing a menu and flipping it open.

“Chris made me wear it,” he mumbles, sending his friend a glare across the table.

“Oh. It’s. Nice?”

“This is painful to watch,” Chris mutters under his breath, Phichit elbowing him in the ribs.

Viktor only hunches his shoulders, hoping he’ll be able to keep his dumb magic in check while they eat. No one likes flower petals in their food. He hates feeling insecure, and he’s so, _so_ mad at Chris right now. They only make some stilted small talk before ordering, even the usually talkative Phichit staying silent for long periods of time. Viktor alternates between glaring at Chris and staring down at his lap, hands clasped tightly.

He and Yuuri have been doing _great_ lately, an easy companionship in their daily routine. Even if Viktor’s heart hurts every day, things were fine. He’d been doing his best to accept his love as unrequited, vowing to never make Yuuri feel uncomfortable with him.

And now, here they were – extremely uncomfortable. If Chris was right that Phichit and Yuuri weren’t dating, he would have preferred to have some time to process it, figure out what to do. He feels lost, unsure of how to act. Once the food and drinks arrive, Phichit and Chris strike up conversation, their natural cheer only marginally managing to lighten things up. Viktor says nothing, torn between hopelessness and wishful thinking.

“Bittersweet nightshades…”

Viktor startles badly as Yuuri plucks flowers from his hair, small ones with deep purple petals in the shape of a star, with yellow stamens and style pointing outwards. There’s a frown on Yuuri’s face as he twists the flowers between his fingers, and Viktor is surprised that Yuuri knows their name. While it’s true that the flowers Viktor grows are often subconsciously picked from their meaning, he didn’t think Yuuri paid any attention to it.

“You only grow these when you’re in a bad mood,” Yuuri adds, looking up at him with concern. “Are you okay?”

 _No_ , he wants to scream. He’s crawling out of his skin trying to figure out what to do, his awful day turning into the possibility of a nightmare if it ends up with Yuuri not liking him back.

“I’m fine,” he murmurs, averting his eyes to pick at his food.

He can feel everyone staring at him, and he knows that he doesn’t usually act like this. He’s deathly afraid of Yuuri telling him that there’s no way they can be together – Viktor is too much effort, too much _everything_. It’s nothing he hasn’t heard before, but from Yuuri it would tear him apart.

“Just a headache,” he adds with an attempted smile, though it fades quickly.

Yuuri picks more flowers from his head, and Viktor feels the stress cause them to grow from between his fingers too. He tugs at them, annoyed; they come off his hands like _snap-snap-snap_.

“Maybe some fresh air will help?” Phichit asks, eyeing the pile of flower ashes growing on Yuuri’s side of the table.

“I think I’ll just go home,” Viktor sighs, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

It snags on multiple flower stems, and he rips a few strands of hair off with them. God, sometimes he hates his ability. There’s just zero use for it other than make his life difficult.

“I’ll go with you,” Yuuri says, but Viktor shakes his head.

“No, no. At least finish your food.”

Since Chris had promised to pay for him, Viktor gives them all a strained smile and makes his way out of the café, gathering up the flowers that keep growing without a care in the world for his state of mind. He feels hollow, his heart a dull pounding against his ribs as if to remind him that sadly he has to live through this awful day. Once he’s outside he draws in a deep breath, steeling himself for the walk home. By the time he gets there he’ll probably be carrying an armful of nightshades.

“Viktor?”

His breath hitches, even the flowers pausing their growth for a moment.

“I said I’m fine.”

Yuuri holds his hands out, and Viktor automatically drops flowers into them. It’s become a habit at this point. Viktor usually brings a bag with him everywhere he goes, putting flowers in it for Yuuri to deal with when they both come home. Before, he tended to just throw them in the fireplace, but Yuuri is much gentler as he wraps his hands around the plants, the ash they turn into so unlike the sooty ones resulting of fire.

“Let’s walk home,” Yuuri tells him, softly.

And what can Viktor do but follow?

Makkachin greets them when they arrive, her tail wagging happily until she notices Viktor’s mood. Then she whimpers, nudging his hand until he pets her head and kneels to properly greet her. Yuuri doesn’t comment, but Viktor can tell that if he believed he was fine before, he doesn’t now.

“It’s okay,” he whispers into her fur, rubbing her neck.

The walk calmed him down a bit, Yuuri silent but attentive to his every step. It makes it all the more painful to think that Yuuri doesn’t mean it other than in a friendship sort of way.

“I think I’ll sleep a bit,” he says as he and Makkachin enter the living room, Yuuri frowning at him with one hand on the fridge door.

“I was thinking I could make you some tea,” Yuuri says, “and I think there’s a pudding left if you want it.”

Usually, Yuuri’s sweet concern would make him all fuzzy inside with warmth. As it is, Viktor resists the urge to scream. It’s torture, having Yuuri so close but not close _enough_. He needs to exile himself in the woods for a few weeks until he can handle himself again.

Actually, make that a few months. He doubts he’ll get over Yuuri quickly.

“Viktor, I-“

“Goodnight, Yuuri!”

He turns before Yuuri can finish, taking Makkachin with him to his room. She’ll probably wake him up in a few hours to go outside, but maybe by then he’ll have recovered a little.

At least, so he hopes.

 

✿✿✿

 

Yuuri frets, and he frets by cleaning the apartment until it’s spotless. He’s got class around midnight but he’ll probably skip at this rate, scrubbing furiously at the kitchen counter. There’s only silence from Viktor’s room, leaving him torn between the need to explain and not disturbing him if he’s really asleep. As soon as the door had shut behind him Yuuri had written a message to Phichit on their chalkboard, but there hadn’t been a need since both Phichit and Chris showed up about an hour later.

And well, Yuuri is still upset with them.

Why would they tell Viktor it was a date when they didn’t tell Yuuri? All Phichit had told him was that if he came to dinner then he’d have proof that Viktor wasn’t dating Chris, which honestly he could have found out simply by asking Viktor directly. Not that he ever would have, but still. This seemed like a rather unnecessarily difficult way of doing it.

When all the surfaces in their small house are clean, Yuuri gets started on the cupboards. How long has it been since they did a thorough cleaning, anyway? He can’t remember ever doing it since he moved in. He’s in the middle of reaching deep into a corner cupboard when he hears Viktor’s door open, and he pauses with half his body still inside.

“Are you… cleaning?” Viktor asks, his footsteps soft on the now shining floors.

Makkachin is trailing him, coming over to Yuuri and bumping her head against his side. Taking a deep breath, Yuuri maneuvers himself out of the cupboard and pets her, not daring to look up at Viktor yet.

“I guess,” he says, clenching the rag he’d been using in one hand. “Everything was kind of dusty, don’t you think?”

Viktor is quiet for a moment, and then he calls for Makkachin.

“I’ll let her out, and then I’ll help you.”

“Really?” Yuuri whips his head up, but Viktor isn’t looking at him. He’s dressed in sleepwear now, baggy sweatpants and a thin, long-sleeved shirt. It’s a look that Yuuri adores. “You don’t have to.”

But Viktor shrugs, and as soon as he’s opened the front door for Makkachin he returns and grabs one of the many rags Yuuri had taken out in his desperation for a distraction. As Yuuri returns to his cupboard, Viktor starts on the overhead ones that Yuuri can’t quite reach. The silence isn’t precisely uncomfortable, but Yuuri can’t think of something to say that isn’t either an apology for their undeserving friends or a love confession, and so he opts for nothing.

They’re almost done with the kitchen when Makkachin scratches the door, wanting to be let inside again. She’s a well-behaved dog who doesn’t stray outside of the garden, but usually one of them would follow her out to play with her. It’s getting late – for Viktor, that is – and Yuuri thinks he really should say something. Viktor starts putting things back into the cupboards after opening the door for her, pots and plates and their vast and varied collection of tea cups. It’s when Yuuri walks over and hands him new cups to put back into place that Viktor sighs, making no move to accept them.

“Sorry,” he says, letting out a small laugh that ends in a wry smile. “I made you worry, didn’t I.”

There are no flowers in Viktor’s hair, and he looks almost listless. Like a plant during drought, Yuuri thinks.

“I don’t mind.” When Viktor still won’t look at him, Yuuri places the cups on the counter and takes a deep breath. “Phichit and Chris came by earlier. They wanted to apologize.”

Viktor does look at him, then, expression unreadable.

“No, I’m the one who overreacted,” he says, grimacing a little. “I’m not good at this stuff.”

“Me neither.”

And just like that the tension breaks, with them looking at each other before resorting to ugly snorts and giggles. Viktor takes the cups and puts them on their shelf, and Yuuri hands him more as they keep trying to hold in their laughter. It feels like he can finally breathe again, though his heart flutters with nerves of a different kind than the anxious ones from before. There are snowdrops growing in the corners now, like the first hope after a long winter. Yuuri leaves them be as he packs away all the cleaning supplies, Viktor giving Makkachin an extra scoop of dog kibbles just because. It’s only when everything is in order again that Yuuri feels his throat clog up, unsure of where they stand. Even though Chris told him plainly to his face that Viktor wants to date him, it’s one thing to be told by a friend and a completely different one to ask the person you like.

“Don’t you, um, don’t you need to sleep? You have class in the morning, right?”

“Don’t you have class right now?” Viktor asks in return, flustered as he takes a look at the clock on the kitchen wall. “Did you skip because of me?”

“It’s fine,” Yuuri mumbles, picking at a stray thread on his sleeve. “I just didn’t feel like going.”

He’s leaning against the counter dividing the kitchen from the living room, Viktor on the other side of the kitchen table, hands in pockets and teeth gnawing on his lower lip. If Yuuri were bolder, more self-confident, he’d go over to him and ask if what Chris said was true. Maybe put a hand on Viktor’s chest, let it slide down to the edge of his sweats, sneak underneath that soft-looking shirt…

“I think I’ll skip, too,” Viktor says, breaking him out of his enticing thoughts. “Tomorrow, I mean.”

“Oh.”

“We’re not doing anything important, anyway.”

“No, of course.”

They both nod, and Yuuri feels ridiculous until Viktor smiles a little cheekily and starts to nod faster until his fringe is flopping up and down and Yuuri can’t help but laugh.

“I like you,” Viktor blurts out, eyes widening, as if he didn’t plan on saying it at all.

Yuuri sucks in a breath, frozen in his spot. He’s staring at Viktor like a deer in headlights, waiting for the inevitable _just kidding_.

Except, it never comes.

Instead, all sorts of pink flowers crowd on Viktor’s head, matching the pink blooming on his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. Viktor doesn’t acknowledge them, lips slightly parted as he stares right back at Yuuri.

“Why?”

It’s the dumbest thing he could have said, and yet Yuuri desperately, fervently needs to know. What could Viktor _possibly_ see in him? They’re like night and day, sun and moon, every cliché you could think of that shouldn’t work together. When Viktor wakes up for breakfast, Yuuri’s getting ready for bed. When Viktor creates, Yuuri breaks apart. When Viktor shines, bright and pretty like a sunflower, Yuuri more resembles a dead tree giving people chills at night in graveyards.

“I have a list,” Viktor admits, completely serious. “One hundred reasons Yuuri is perfect.”

“Now you’re mocking me.”

“I’m not.” Viktor looks down for a second, determination shining in his eyes when he lifts his face again. “I wasn’t going to say anything because I didn’t want to ruin things if you don’t like me back, but…”

Yuuri’s heart is beating so fast he fears it will escape through his ribcage.

“I want you so much that if you don’t want me, I figured that it’s better you let me know now and not when it’s going to hurt even more.”

“But I want you,” Yuuri says, incredulous and tripping over the words. “I thought you were dating Chris!”

“Well, I thought you were dating Phichit.” Viktor pouts a little as he says it, then straightens up in shock. “Wait, you _want_ me?”

His face is almost covered in flowers now, and now and then one falls off as he moves his head. Wherever they fall they seem to take root, slowly spreading over the kitchen floor. Yuuri should probably do something about it before they completely take over, but he’s still not entirely sure he remembers how to move his body.

“Obviously,” he says, biting his lip.

He can barely process it. All this time they both liked each other? Is he going to have to see Phichit again and admit he was right?

“It wasn’t obvious to me,” Viktor mumbles, batting the flowers away when they sink lower to hang in front of his eyes. “I’m the one who was obvious.”

Yuuri would disagree, but somehow he manages to move, out of breath as he reaches Viktor despite taking only a few quick steps. He lifts a hand up to push aside the flower curtain, finding Viktor underneath with a rosy blush on his cheeks and nose.

“Maybe we’re both just really bad at this,” he suggests, and Viktor’s mouth twitches into half a smile.

He can’t be blamed, he thinks, for leaning up and pressing his lips to that smile. There’s a noise of surprise from Viktor, and then hands slide through his hair to pull him closer.

Viktor’s mouth is warm, heating him up to the core as he tilts his head and slots it perfectly against Yuuri’s. His knees feel embarrassingly weak, and he wraps his arms around Viktor’s neck for balance. He can’t even bring himself to feel self-conscious about things, because it feels so _good_ that all he can do is part his lips and moan when Viktor’s tongue slips inside his mouth. It’s when he starts to wonder if Viktor really has _that_ many fingers that he realizes the flowers have spread without control, tickling Yuuri’s cheeks as the stems coil around both their heads. He can’t help the giggle escaping him, and Viktor’s eyes flutter open to give him a questioning look.

“Is that a hint we shouldn’t stop?” Yuuri teases, which has Viktor flushing bright red and swatting at the unruly plants.

“One day, I swear,” Viktor mutters, but Yuuri takes his hands and places them on his waist, reaching up himself to untangle them.

“It’s okay,” he says softly, brushing through Viktor’s silky hair and tugging at his own. “I’ve got you.”

“Yes,” Viktor agrees, smiling down at him as he works. “You do.”

 

✿✿✿

 

A few days later, Yuuri discovers an empty space on the wall in the hallway where a bunch of reminders and fun little notes with jokes used to hang. It says _FOR YUURI_ on it, and he takes it off the wall, turning it around curiously.

 

_♡Please be my boyfriend♡_

_Circle your answer!_

 

_Yes/Absolutely Yes_

 

He can’t help a silly little smile, digging through his bag for a pen. Gnawing on the tip he considers what to write, brushing a thumb over Viktor’s pretty writing. There’s a bubbling warmth in his chest, spreading to his fingertips as he puts pen to paper and draws a large, blooming flower over both answers.

He thinks it will get the point across.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it!! Send me a <3 if you thought it was cute! ＼（○＾ω＾○）／
> 
> You can find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/katsudonforever) and [tumblr](http://fangirlandiknowit101.tumblr.com/) <3


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